Hear the Wolf
by calicosmoak
Summary: The Starks are in Hogwarts. Sansa has to learn to stand up to her ex-boyfriend. Jon has to learn to face his past. They both have demons they're determined to face alone. But will they ever learn that they're stronger together? [JonSa - Warnings Inside]
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Hi, okay! Sooo first of all, Jon is _not_ related to the Starks. Second of all, this story has very mature themes. The trigger warnings are as such: mentions and descriptions (not explicit) of physical and emotional abuse. There is a non-consensual moment but also not explicit. This is a story about survival, strength and recovery, as much as it is a romance between Jon and Sansa. I pray and hope I have done the themes justice and that I haven't offended anyone in trying to write this story. I also feel it is imperative I mention just for clarification purposes that those trigger warnings do not have anything to do with Jon and Sansa's relationship. Theirs is (or will hopefully be) a relationship that is supportive, loving and understanding. I just feel like this needs to be said in case anyone thinks I'd write a horribly unhealthy and toxic relationship between these two smol babies.

In any case, thank you if you choose to read. And no, I am not stealing this fanfic. I am calico_tw on AO3 as well.

Enjoy! x

* * *

When Sansa is six, she learns a terrible lesson in heartbreak. She cries and cries into her mother's warm embrace and asks why he has to go, why is this woman stealing him from her, and her mother just holds her till the cries fade to a hiccup and Sansa falls asleep curled into her side. In the morning, her parents sit her down and explain to her that Jon isn't being stolen. He is going home to his mother. Sansa still doesn't understand but they promise she'll still see him so she is placated for awhile. When it becomes clear the Snows are moving abroad and Sansa won't see him again, she learns what betrayal feels like and resists the urge to cry again.

If Jon does not love her, she will not love him either.

Sansa is nine when he returns and she feels a strange aloofness between them. The Jon she remembers of her childhood is not the boy who moves in next door, who plays and laughs with Robb, who teaches Arya how to throw a quaffle or Bran and Rickon how to climb a tree. She resolves a month after his return that she does not like him at all. He is boring and serious and does not shower her with compliments and attention like the men do in the stories she reads late into the night. And it is just as well because he doesn't seem to like her either.

The following year, Jon and Robb leave for Hogwarts. She misses her brother terribly but tries not to spare a thought for Jon. On occasion, she does wonder if he is eating well because Jon does have a terrible inclination for not eating enough fruits. They have spent many mornings with him for Sansa to know this. She thinks he needs his fruits if he's to join the quidditch team as she knows he wants to from the many times Robb, Jon and Arya discuss what position they'll play and how they can't wait for the chance to try out. Sansa always scoffs at them when they do and tells them that quidditch is a game for barbarians but they roll their eyes at her and Arya tells her to go back to her songs and stories.

Sansa will never admit this but it always hurt when they do that. It always hurts to know how different she is to her family.

So it isn't with much surprise when Sansa is sorted into Ravenclaw while Robb is a Gryffindor, and eventually Arya too when she joins two years after Sansa. Even Jon is a Gryffindor and he isn't even blood. She hates him for it. She thinks he's stealing her rightful place by her family's side, but she fits Ravenclaw more as the years pass by and the distance to the others eases when Bran is sorted into Ravenclaw with her. Rickon ends up being the lone wolf in Hufflepuff but as the baby he is hardly without a Stark (or a Snow) by his side.

When Sansa is fifteen, she learns a new lesson in heartbreak. She learns that boys will lie and they will cheat and they will take what they want without asking and stomp on your heart for their own pleasure. And in the cold dimly lit corridor of the third floor, Sansa learns that Joffrey Baratheon is a spoiled, cruel prick, as he slides his hand up her thigh, skimming the bare leg under her skirt despite her trying to push him off.

But she also learns that day that there is a side to Jon Snow that no one else sees. Quiet, solemn and serious as he is most of the time, Jon is also ferocious and dangerous, and when he sees them, he rips Joffrey from her body and slams a fist into his face - not once but two, three times, till blood is dripping down the blonde's face.

Joffrey scampers away after that and Sansa makes Jon promise never to tell anyone. He is reluctant to do so but he promises.

That day she remembers the Jon of her childhood – of the boy who held her hand everywhere she went, who growled if someone came too close and she didn't like it, who stole sweets to give to her and who cuddled her when she was sleepy. Jon her Protector, the adults called him.

Sansa thinks things will change between them after it but nothing does and she doesn't know if she's glad for it or disappointed that there is still a miserable aloofness between them. She doesn't dwell long because Joffrey has remade her in steel and she pushes away what makes her feel vulnerable and Jon makes her feel too vulnerable.

But as she's starting to learn, everything changes eventually.


	2. Haunted

**Jon:**

When Robb is handed the Head Boy badge, no one is surprised. He's a Stark and they're a legacy family so everyone knows they're meant to lead, but Sam asks if he's jealous when it's just the two of them and Jon laughs. Leading isn't something he wants and he's only glad that now Robb can stop sulking every time someone reminds him that Jon was named quidditch captain in their fifth year, making him the youngest to be named so in a long while. Now Robb has his own bragging rights and Jon is really, _genuinely_ happy for his best friend.

On the same day, Jon learns that Joffrey Baratheon has been named Slytherin's new quidditch captain and he feels the anger rise up in his throat and he can only think of barbaric things like cutting off his head and placing it on a spike in front of the Stark manor to warn off anyone that might want to hurt her again.

Robb is surprised by the intensity and raises a questioning brow his way. "I hate the guy too but you look like you would rather eat your own arm than be near him."

He would rather make Joffrey eat his own arm for simply existing but it's not too far off. "He's a scumbag," Jon answers simply and Robb shrugs.

It has always killed him to keep such a secret from his best friend but he promised her and he won't betray that promise. They may not be close, not as they once were when they were no taller than a house elf, but she's a Stark and Jon owes a lot of who he is to her family – as did his mum. So no matter how hard it is to lie to Robb or to look Ned Stark in the eyes and smile as if he hadn't witnessed his eldest daughter being violated by that son of a bitch, Jon will not betray _her_ trust. She's been through enough. No one sees it. Sansa is good at acting but he sees. She flinches when someone gets too close and he knows she hasn't been on a date since that day – though not for lack of propositions. Sansa is a beautiful girl and everyone in the castle knows it, but she continues to claim she doesn't want to date when she has NEWTs coming up. Robb doesn't pry any further because his sister not dating is a relief to him – and Arya is too focused on other things to notice, and Bran and Rickon are too young to even care.

"How is it that _you're_ Head Boy?" Theon asks when he finds them on the train. "Hogwarts has gone to the dogs I swear it."

"Jealousy is an awful colour on you, Greyjoy," Robb laughs as he leans back and plops his feet onto Jon's lap. Jon rolls his eyes and pushes them off.

They continue to bicker for the next hour and Jon is relieved when Ygritte knocks on the compartment door and leads Jon to a secluded corner on the train. He pushes her up against the wall and kisses her till he can hear that happy little moan in the back of her throat. When Jon thinks he can't breathe anymore, he trails light kisses down her neck to the hollow below and claims her as his with a pull of his teeth. Ygritte laughs and slaps his shoulder.

"You're a fast learner, Jon Snow," she says with hooded eyes.

"I have a great teacher," Jon smirks and she laughs again before he cuts her off with another kiss that has them both panting and heaving until the door to a compartment opens nearby and Jon jumps from her arms. He turns with the beginning flush of embarrassment, but when he sees _her_ eyes staring back at him, he feels shame and guilt instead.

"I - I…" Sansa doesn't finish her sentence before she races away in the opposite direction. Jon wants to run after her but Ygritte's hand is in his and she's pulling him back to her.

"Do you think we've scarred her?" Ygritte asks with a mischievous glint in her smile. "That's probably the most she's ever seen anyone do."

Jon's eyes snap back to hers. "What?" he asks dumbly.

"Sansa. She's got quite ladylike sensibilities, or so I'm told," Ygritte tells him, then clarifies when he doesn't reply. "A bit of a prude?"

"Is that what people are saying about her?" Jon snaps abruptly and drops her hand.

"Jon..." Ygritte's face is crestfallen and he sees regret in her eyes but he doesn't care because this is Sansa and he hates to think of anyone mocking her for things they know nothing about. "I didn't mean… I know she's like a sister to you. I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Jon says without accepting her apology. "I… I have to get changed. We'll be at Hogwarts soon." He turns without a goodbye and returns to his compartment.

He wonders for the rest of the journey if he overreacted with Ygritte. He likes her, _a lot_ , and getting to know her has the been the highlight of his miserable summer, but he doesn't think clearly when Sansa's concerned these days. He knows she's not his sister to fret over or even a friend in that sense but she's still Sansa – and he still sees the terror in her face as Joffrey loomed over her when he closes his eyes. He wants to protect her but he isn't the right person. He shouldn't be the one to hold this secret. It should be Robb, but Robb doesn't know and if he did, Joffrey wouldn't be alive for his last year at Hogwarts – not that that would be a shame in the slightest. Jon has had his own daydreams of ripping the Slytherin's limbs from his pathetic body. It's only the flash of red hair and blue eyes that stop him.

The Sorting goes by excruciatingly slow this year – but he cheers with enthusiasm when Rickon is sorted into Hufflepuff – and Jon longs for the comfort of his bed in the Gryffindor Tower by the end of it. He isn't much for feasts and parties even though his appetite proves ravenous.

"There," Sam nudges him with his shoulder and Jon looks up. "She looks more beautiful this year, doesn't she?"

Jon rolls his eyes and smiles at his friend. "Aye. Are you going to finally ask her out this year?"

"What?" he squeaks and Sam pales at the idea. "Girls like that don't - they just don't go for boys like me."

This makes Jon frown. "Sam, you will never know what girls like that go for if you don't try." But Sam doesn't seem convinced and the two are resigned to a companionable silence the rest of the feast.

When Robb stands up to speak to the Gryffindor table as Head Boy, Jon is a far cry from being his attentive and supportive best friend, and when Theon cracks a lewd joke that has Robb pink at the ears, he doesn't offer even a polite half-smile because he is already up and moving across the Great Hall when he sees her leave it. He races down the corridor and catches her on the flight of stairs as it moves to connect with another.

"Hi," he says.

Sansa is turned into the railing, her eyes following the movement of the stairs above, and he thinks for a second she won't look at him at all but then her eyes fix on him and Jon breathes out in relief. "Where's your girlfriend?" she asks.

"I don't know," Jon answers honestly. "I'm sorry about earlier."

Sansa looks surprised. "What's there to apologise for?"

"It must have been really gross to see me… uh, doing that," Jon mutters as one hand rubs at the nape of his neck.

"I've seen worse things," Sansa says and she's smiling so he's smiling back in spite of the darkness in her humour, but he thinks he likes that about her. When neither says anything for a moment and the stairs don't look like they want to connect to anywhere at all, Sansa turns to face him in full. "Do you think Gryffindor will win the Quidditch Cup this year?" And he hears her unvoiced question.

"Without a doubt," Jon tells her and he wills her to understand that he has no intention of letting Joffrey touch that cup in this lifetime or the next.

"Good," Sansa says, and then the stairs reconnect and she leaves him for the Ravenclaw Tower. He thinks of returning to the feast but it's been a long day and he'd rather just slide under his covers and sleep till morning.

At the end of the first full day of classes, Jon finds Ygritte and pulls her into an empty classroom. He kisses her softly then lifts her onto a table, returning his mouth down onto hers and making sure she knows he has forgiven her. Jon is not a boy of many words and Ygrittes knows there isn't a need for them to talk about what occurred on the train. When her hand circles his neck and she wraps her legs around his waist, Jon thinks he might just lose his mind to her.

"We're going to be late for dinner," she says, her breath hot on his cheek.

"I'm not hungry," Jon tells her and he nips at the hollow of her neck. Ygritte laughs and places both of her hands on his chest and pushes.

"Well _I_ am, Jon Snow." She hops down from the table and takes him by the hand. "So come with me or stay here."

Jon follows but not before wrapping his arms around her waist from behind her and kissing her roughly on the neck. This makes her laugh more and that is the state Sansa and Arya find him in out in the corridor. Arya blanches and makes gagging noises, while Sansa remains tight-lipped.

"I think I've just lost my appetite forever," Arya says dramatically.

Jon has already let go of Ygritte by this point but his hand remains firmly in hers. "Shut up, Arya," he tells her and then pulls Ygritte forward. "Uh, this is Ygritte… my girlfriend. And Ygritte, this is Arya and Sansa Stark. They're my… friends."

"More than friends," Arya says with a roll of her eyes. "Our dad practically raised you."

"Till I was seven," Jon explains to Ygritte, who is looking confused. He knows there is a lot about his life he doesn't talk about but they have only been dating two months. These are things that come with time because when it comes to the matter of his family and his relationship with the Starks, it's a long and complicated tale.

"Okay," Ygritte says but he knows she'll just ask him more about this later. "It's lovely to meet you both."

"And you too," Sansa says, smiling brightly at Ygritte, as she takes her hand and shakes it politely. "Well, we better get to the Great Hall." And before either of them can say anymore, Sansa has Arya by the elbow and she's pulling her quickly ahead of them.

Jon and Ygritte tail behind in a more leisurely pace, though Jon's mind is running along with her, wondering what she could possibly be thinking at that moment.

"I don't think she likes me," Ygritte says after a moment's silence.

"Who? Arya? Arya doesn't like anyone," Jon reassures.

"No. Sansa. Did you tell her about…"

"No, of course not," Jon says and looks down at Ygritte, who nods and shrugs. He knows the topic is done on the matter. Ygritte isn't the type to care too much if someone dislikes her, and even if Sansa is an important part of his life, he knows she won't go out of her way to make Sansa comfortable. It's a part of her personality that he both loves and hates.

When they reach the Great Hall, Jon takes Ygritte over to the Gryffindor table where Robb, Theon, Sam, Sansa and Arya are seated. He doesn't bother to introduce Ygritte to the boys when they've all shared classes for the better part of the past six years.

"I hear tryouts will be at the end of the month," Robb tells them conversationally. "And I hear Joffrey is remaking their entire team from the bottom up."

Sansa tenses and Jon notices it instantly. It's only infinitesimal but the white of her knuckles as she grips her spoon is enough to have him stare a little too long at her face. It's only when Ygritte nudges him that Jon realises they are expecting his response to this piece of news.

"It's a bold move," he says. "But as a new captain? It's a dumb move."

"What do you mean?" Arya asks, leaning forward, elbows on the table.

"When I first made captain, it took several months for me to get into the swing of everything," Jon tells them. "And even longer to get the team to respect me as more than just a teammate but I was lucky. Our team was almost unchanged and I already knew how everyone worked. If Joffrey is changing everything, he's not only going to piss off past teammates but he's going to have to learn everyone's strengths and weaknesses. It's time wasted."

"Well good," Sansa suddenly pipes up. She is looking straight at Jon now and there is a steely ice in her eyes that has his heart beating a little faster. "I hope he crashes and burn for everyone to see."

Silence falls around the table. Sansa has not talked about Joffrey since last year. They think it's because Joffrey was rumoured to be sleeping around but Jon knows better. No one dares to ask her what happened though as she'll only silence them with a look that can chill the brutest of men. Jon suspects she's learned it from her mother. Catelyn Stark has that effect on men too. But Sansa has also never talked so forcefully about anyone in all the years Jon's known her. Unlike her siblings, she has always been quieter. There's ice in her words when she's speaking to someone she greatly dislikes but she is never cruel – never one to cause a scene. In a way, Ygritte was right. Sansa _is_ a lady, and that's why it stuns them all to hear her speak with such hostility so publically.

"Sansa?" Robb is leaning forward to reach for his sister but she shrinks back from his touch. "What happened between you and Joffrey?"

Jon thinks to hit his best friend on the back of his head for asking such a stupid question in front of so many people but Sansa's scowl does it better and Robb is quickly silenced from pursuing it further. The topic quickly changes after that and they're onto discussing the other quidditch teams and how they'll fare this year. Arya jumps at this opportunity to talk about Hufflepuff's Beater, Gendry Waters, and Jon suspects there's more admiration there than the irritation she displays when talking about the big bull of a boy.

Jon hopes Robb is too blind to notice because otherwise there might be more than one foul coming for the poor sixth year in the future.

* * *

 **Sansa:**

Every day is agonisingly slow. Classes are a dull affair even if it is the start to NEWTs and Sansa really should be paying more attention but she is rolling something over and over again in her mind. It's a thought that thoroughly distresses her and it's this thought that has her scowling at the shelves of the library when someone sits across from her.

"Merlin, what did those books ever do to you?" Jeyne asks as she pulls out a half-written parchment that Sansa recognises is their homework for Charms.

"Sorry," Sansa half-heartedly apologises. She drops her gaze and offers a warm smile for her friend. "I was just…"

"Thinking, I know," Jeyne cuts her off with a soft chuckle. "I know you are a great mind, Sansa Stark, and I am sure you have many thoughts in that brain of yours but you are _thinking_ a lot lately. Can I venture a guess as to what they're of?"

Sansa looks sceptical but shrugs. "You can try."

"It can't be NEWTs already, can it?" And Sansa shakes her head so Jeyne continues on. "Then is it to do with Slytherin's newest captain?"

A dark scowl marrs Sansa's pale, delicate features. She cannot hide her distaste any more than she can hide her discomfort when a boy comes too near her without permission. She knows Jeyne has her suspicions over the real reason why Joffrey and her had broken up so suddenly but Sansa cannot bear to relive those memories long enough to even confide in her best friend.

"Sansa," Jeyne is leaning forward across the table to take Sansa's hand in hers – a mirror of what Robb had tried to do earlier this week. "Talk to me."

A moment passes before Sansa is smiling and pulling away. "There's nothing to talk about."

"You are a terrible liar," Jeyne sighs and takes out a book, flipping it open to an earmarked page. "But you know where to find me when you _are_ ready."

"I know," Sansa says with a little more sincerity. "I promise I'm okay… I was just thinking about… how I might want to date again."

Jeyne snaps her book shut and beams with such unfiltered glee that it has Sansa chuckling softly.

"Don't joke with me, Sansa Stark. Don't toy with my little heart." Jeyne's enthusiasm makes Sansa glad to have come up with that confession. Although it is not entirely true and the thought of kissing someone makes her stomach churn unpleasantly, Sansa is determined to move on from Joffrey. He will not take any more of herself than he already has. She is not his little bird. She won't be.

"I promise you I'm not," Sansa says with a roll of her eyes. "Just don't go announcing it to the castle or anything. I said I _might_ be. I haven't even… I don't even know if there's anyone in this castle that I find attractive."

 _Liar_ , a part of her shouts, but Sansa quells it with a soft shake of her head, focusing instead on Jeyne in front of her, who is speaking quickly.

"Oh but we'll find you someone! You just haven't been looking properly is all."

Sansa doesn't think that is likely and she suspects Jeyne is only saying it to make her feel better about it all. She is about to say so when another person flops into the seat next to Jeyne and Sansa smacks her lips tightly together.

"Hello, sister. Jeyne." Robb says and flashes them a smile that has so many of the girls in the castle flocking after him. "If by chance you see our sombre neighbour coming, can you do me a favour and warn me first? Because he is going to flay me alive for missing quidditch training tonight."

"And why have you missed quidditch training tonight?" Sansa asks with a little smirk. If there is anyone able to draw her out of the steel shell she lives in, it's her older brother. Something about being around Robb always makes her feel like a little kid again – as if it was just Robb, Jon and her running through the house and laughing till their sides hurt.

"Head Boy duties," Robb says, eyeing her warily. "That may have… There may have been… Wait, why are you looking at me like that? Sansa? No, don't!"

Sansa smiles innocently - ever the lady. "Don't what?"

"Don't do whatever it is your little mind has come up with," Robb tells her. "C'mon. Please? Jon's going to kill me."

"I don't know what you mean," Sansa returns but she's already out of her chair and sprinting through the library at a pace that would surely get her banned if she wasn't just a blur of red hair. She hears Jeyne calling after them and the shushing sound of Madame Gawdrey's voice immediately after and for the first time in a long time Sansa's laughing without care.

She runs down the corridor, down the stairs and all the while she can hear Robb hot on her tail.

"Sansa!" he's shouting. "Oh come on!"

She turns her head back to look at him. "This is for last month when you switched my toothpaste with mayonnaise!" Robb laughs before immediately straightening his features and appearing regretful, but Sansa knows her brother too well to fall for his tricks. "And for the month before when you dyed my hair pink when I was sleeping. And for -" But in her haste to remind Robb of all the ways he has pranked her this past summer, she doesn't hear the footsteps coming towards her and when she veers around the corner, her body hits a very hard surface and there are suddenly arms holding tightly around her waist.

"Sansa," Jon breathes out as he's looking down at her. "Are you okay?"

It's hard to respond when she is altogether too aware of his hands on her and the way her body is flushed against his. Sansa can only nod so Jon pushes back gently to allow some space between them but his hands remain curled around her hips and she thinks she sees his eyes darken but that surely can't be right. Sansa doesn't have time to really scrutinise him because a moment later, Robb has caught up with her and Jon has put so much distance between them she can't be sure.

"Oh… Jon! My _best_ friend. How are you?" Robb says with an overly bright smile.

"Not great, Robb," Jon says, his expression serious once more. "Had to train a team with one of our chasers missing. Might replace him actually. Kind of a deadbeat."

Sansa snickers and she sees the edges of Jon's lips quirk ever-so-slightly. Robb fixes her with a glare before turning his bright smile back on and clapping Jon on the shoulder.

"Now who would dare skip out on training when they have you as their fearless leader?" Robb questions with mock bewilderment. "Perhaps they were simply tied up with something else?"

"Something more important than quidditch?" Jon arcs a brow as if that is the most absurd thing he has ever heard, but Sansa sees the twinkle of something else in his grey eyes that has her stifling a chuckle.

"No, of course not," Robb answers. "Just… things. You know, things that person might not have been able to get out of."

"Hmm, well," Jon shrugs. "Can't say I can think of a single _thing_ that warrants excusing such a person from laps around the lake at the next practice though."

"Oh bloody hell," Robb says with a loud groan, which is what draws the laughter from her throat and causes Sansa to grip onto her brother's arm as her body shakes with mirth.

For a second as she stands there laughing with Robb frowning at her and Jon smiling in bemusement, she imagines they're all children again and Sansa and Jon have ganged up to prank Robb together and she feels a lightness in her chest that hasn't been there in far too long. She wants to savour it like it is the last piece of lemon cake in the world and she tries to, memorising the crinkle of Jon's eyes as he watches her, the way her brother sighs at her side – and then it all comes falling apart, torn and ripped carelessly at the seams, as soon as she hears his voice.

"Isn't this a beautiful sight?" he says and Sansa drops Robb's arm immediately, tensing. "If he wasn't your brother, I would be so jealous, my dear Sansa."

She doesn't know what to say. She knows what she wishes she _could_ say but she doesn't have the nerve to do so. She isn't so brave like her siblings.

"Move along, Baratheon," Robb says, straightening up to his full height. The tone of authority has its desired effect on Joffrey's friend, who makes to scurry along, but the blonde-haired Slytherin stands his ground.

"Now, now," he says in that tone that chills her in her nightmares. "It's hardly even curfew. I do remember corridors being a public domain."

" _Move_ along," Robb repeats again.

"Easy," Joffrey puts both hands up with a derisive laugh. "I just wanted to say hi to your sister and tell her she looks more beautiful everyday." He turns his gaze onto Sansa and she recognises it instantly. It's predatory and it's hungry and suddenly she knows that Joffrey still has a part of her in his claws. He still possesses her even if he hasn't touched her since last year.

Sansa feels so weak at this realisation that she unknowingly steps away in fear. This only makes Joffrey smile more and she hates herself for playing into his games, but then, his smile falters and it is gone in its entirety when someone steps up beside her. His hand is on the small of her back, his thumb rubbing soothingly over her school uniform, and Jon puts himself between Joffrey and her.

"It is nice to see you again, Joffrey," Jon says evenly. "Your face has healed nicely. Did you ever find out who attacked you last year?" Pleasant as his words seem on the surface, the threat is there. It's there in the way his eyes darken till they are almost black. It's there in the way he stands shoulder to shoulder with Robb – both boys making a formidable wall in front of Sansa. And it is there in the gruff grumble of his words as if they are spoken deep from a primal part of Jon that is less human and more… more _animal_.

Joffrey scowls but he begins to walk away. "See you around, Sansa," he adds, unable to help himself to a final word. Robb lurches forward but Jon puts his hand on his shoulder.

"Not the time," he murmurs.

Robb nods in silent understanding before he turns his eyes to hers. "Sansa… Sansa, please tell me what happened. Whatever it is, I love you and I will never…"

"Robb, no," Sansa cuts him off. "It's not important. Not anymore." She steps away from the both of them. "I should sleep. Th - _thank you_."

She doesn't wait for them to protest, to offer her their company back to the Ravenclaw Tower – Sansa just runs. She runs and runs until she is safely back inside her dormitory and underneath her duvet. That is when she allows the tears to fall – shamefully and uncontrollably – until sleep douses out her anguish and Sansa is thankfully pulled into a dreamless darkness, unable to hear the owl who hoots at her window, a letter in its talons.


	3. Strength

**Sansa:**

Sansa doesn't notice the letter lying by her bedside table till later that evening and when she does she drops the mug of tea she's holding. It shatters all over the floor, ceramic shards and hot caramel-coloured liquid flying everywhere.

Jeyne rushes to her side and carefully manoeuvres her away from the broken shards. She sits Sansa down on the edge of her bed and takes the letter from her hand. As soon as she reads it, Sansa hears the angry hiss coming from her friend.

"The - the bloody nerve of that guy!" Jeyne shouts and she starts to pace the room. "Who does he think he is!"

Sansa doesn't respond. She doesn't know if she has the energy to respond. The thought that had plagued her in the library worms its way into her mind now and she relinquishes herself to it. _Joffrey is not done with you,_ the thought says. _You are a stupid, naive girl to think he is._ She crumbles now and her hands fly to her face as more tears stain her pale cheeks.

"Oh Sansa," Jeyne soothes, pulling her into an embrace. "You'll be okay. You will."

"How…" Sansa hiccups. "How can you say that, Jeyne?"

"Because you're Sansa Stark!" Jeyne says vehemently. "And if I know anything, the Starks are not to be messed with."

"You're wrong," Sansa says quietly. "You think of my brothers – of Arya. I'm not like them. I'm weak… I can't do anything."

"You're not weak," Jeyne pulls her to her feet. "No, that is one thing you're not... but you know you're right. You're not like them. You're stronger than them." This makes Sansa snort and she stares incredulously at Jeyne, who frowns deeply. "When those boys were bullying Arya, who stopped them? Not Robb or Jon's angry threats. It was you who wrote to their mothers and told them everything that had happened. You did that. And who did Bran run to when he broke his arm from falling out of that tree? You because you calmed his mind and stayed by his side till he recovered. And who, Sansa, did little Rickon run to when he was so homesick last week? _You_."

Sansa doesn't see her point. She doesn't see what Jeyne is telling her and she knows she should.

"Sansa, you _are_ strong. You're strong because you protect the people you love," Jeyne says. "So trust me when I say you will get through this."

She doesn't say anything and just nods but she wonders if she is the one to protect others then who is there to protect her? She doesn't know if anyone can. They may be able to threaten Joffrey into leaving her alone but he's still there when she sleeps. He still pervades her nightmares and like oozing black tar he forces her down.

Sansa takes the letter from Jeyne and makes her promise never to tell anyone, especially a Stark (or a Snow but the inclusion of Jon goes without saying). Her best friend sighs but agrees to it.

Over the next few weeks, Sansa tries to push him away from her mind and focus on her studies. She almost succeeds but every glimpse of blonde hair has her heart stuttering in panic. She doesn't think he is dumb enough to try anything during the school hours. Joffrey wouldn't risk a professor seeing them, and despite his arrogance, he knows better than to provoke the Starks in broad daylight. The running joke at Hogwarts that you can't mess with a Stark without inviting the full force of the pack is not as much of a joke as people may think. Sansa is both glad for her family's presence and annoyed by it. Fear has a way of isolating you that way and Sansa thinks sometimes she might want to be isolated.

With her books pulled tightly to her chest, Sansa walks the corridor after her last lesson without much thought as to where she's going.

"Sansa!"

She stops but doesn't turn, wondering if she has mistaken another name for her own in the chaos of the castle. When a hand wraps around her wrist, Sansa turns, ready to snatch it back, but instead a warm smile instantly greets the boy before her.

"Bran," she says as she hugs her brother.

"Are you going to the quidditch pitch?" he asks but when she stares only in confusion, he's chuckling. "To watch Gryffindor's tryouts this year?"

"I thought tryouts weren't till the end of the month." Sansa is sure that was what Robb had said – not that she'd ever had too much of an interest in the sport, though this year she knows it'll be different.

"Sansa, it _is_ the end of the month," Bran says with a laugh, but he's watching her curiously all the same. Sansa admits she is thoroughly surprised by this. "Are NEWTs that bad that you can't even remember the day?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "No, but I guess I just lost count. So tell me about tryouts. Why are we going to watch it?"

"It's exciting!" he exclaims. "There's only one open position this year and it's for seeker. If Jon can't find someone amazing, Gryffindor's chances for the cup will disappear. Even if the rest of team is better than everyone else."

This has Sansa's interest. She needs Gryffindor to win the Quidditch Cup. If they don't, Slytherin might and she can't let Joffrey win – not at this. Not when Jon, Robb and Arya are all on the Gryffindor team.

Sansa follows Bran to the pitch. Her smile widens instantly when she sees Rickon waiting for them and she quickly envelopes her littlest brother in a hug. He rolls his eyes and tries to shove her off but Sansa just laughs and holds him even tighter.

" _Sansa_ , people are watching!" he grumbles.

"When did you get too big for hugs from your sister?" she asks and fixes him with a look. Rickon squirms and shrugs with innocent eyes, knowing Sansa caves to him every time he does it.

Before she can say anything else to the eleven-year-old boy, there is a commotion and all three Starks look up as Jon kicks up into the sky. He has his dark curls pulled back from his face and Sansa wonders if everyone's heart is beating as fast as hers watching him like this. It must be the anticipation – and the respect he clearly demands.

Sansa has never seen him like this before. She has seen plenty of quidditch games over the years and he has been captain of many of them, yet she realises she had never noticed _him_. Her eyes have always been drawn to Robb or Arya, worrying and fretting any time a bludger came to close to her siblings. Occasionally her eyes would drift to Jon but he is no longer the skinny fifteen-year-old captain that seemed more awkward than commanding – and though only seventeen now, Jon looks more man than boy. She wonders when that happened – and is she the last to notice this?

A hush descends around the pitch and everyone listens intently to Jon's words. When a fourth year boy jokes loudly to his friend, Jon's eyes snap to his and there's a second before the boy is apologizing profusely for interrupting. Sansa knows now that this is why Joffrey is frightened of him. There is power in his silence; danger in the way he holds himself – and she's suddenly remembering the look of fury in Jon's eyes when he rips Joffrey from Sansa and the cracking sound of Joffrey's nose breaking when Jon's fist meets his face. She thinks if she hadn't pulled him off, he might have actually killed the eldest Baratheon.

Somehow knowing all of this only makes Sansa's heart beat faster in her chest.

"Jon looks…" she clears her throat so that her voice might not betray her. "He looks like a good captain."

Bran and Rickon both turn to her with Rickon being the first to speak. "He's the _best_!"

"He's not only the youngest to be named captain in decades, Sansa, but he's like… I don't know, like…" Bran flounders for an appropriate word.

"Uh, like the best," Rickon offers and Bran nods vigorously.

Sansa laughs and shakes her head at her two brothers. "You said that, Rickon." It's endearing how much the two love Jon. He might as well have been born a Stark for all her siblings flock around him. She feels then a twinge of envy and Sansa isn't sure if she's envious of their close relationship to Jon, or if she's envious he's more of a Stark than she could ever hope to be.

"Okay, um…" Rickon looks to Bran for help.

"Just watch him," Bran says after a moment. "You'll see."

And Sansa does. For the next hour, her eyes doesn't leave his once and she sees the way his teammates cling to his every word. The way he helps the students trying out even if it is clear as day even to someone like Sansa that there isn't a chance they'd make the team. By the end of it, she has a newfound appreciation for quidditch in a way she had never done before – not even when Robb had sat her down to explain the merits of the sport to her one summer.

"We're going to go down to say hi. Coming?" Rickon asks as the two boys jump to their feet as soon as tryouts are over. Sansa shakes her head.

"You two go ahead. I think I'm going to head to the library." Rickon makes a face and Sansa laughs before waving at them as they run off. She wants to follow them but she doesn't have anything to say to the team. She doesn't think she'd be as welcomed as her two brothers, so she starts walking to the one place she knows she _is_ welcomed.

The castle is quiet and the air is cool despite the heat and sunshine outside, which is where she suspects all of the students are on this Friday evening. Soon winter will come and the outdoors will be too unbearable even for the most northern of students. She should be enjoying the last remnants of summer with them but she's too tired to be social, too tired to find friends who she barely even trusts.

Sansa rummages in her bag to pull out the cardigan she had stripped off while watching the tryouts with her brothers. She has one arm in one sleeve when two rough hands shove her hard against the stone wall. Her head rings as it thuds painfully against the solid surface.

"Little bird," he whispers, his breath hot on her neck. "Did you get my letter?"

"Let go of me, Joffrey," Sansa says. She meant it as a warning but her voice quivers at the end and she knows he hears it too.

"What are you going to do?" Joffrey sneers, his hand wandering down her body to yank the shirt from the waistband of her skirt. "Your brother's not here. Jon's not here. Who's going to save you?"

Joffrey is right. Sansa is all alone. Her siblings are all out on the pitch right now and there's no one around to rescue her. Her eyes tear as his fingers dig into her skin. She needs to push him off but her arms are lead at her side. What is wrong with her? Why can't she stand up to him?

"That's right, little bird," Joffrey is laughing. "You're all mine. You'll always be mine."

Sansa squeezes her eyes shut when his lips touch hers. She tries to think of anything else to quicken this nightmare she's living in but there is nothing. She sees only darkness, feels only his body pushed up against her and Sansa doesn't know what to do. She has never known what to do when Joffrey is involved. She is loathe to admit it but Sansa is afraid of him. People see a self-entitled and spoiled brat but she sees a monster and she knows he is capable of hurting her worse than just a few bruises here and there.

" _Ahhem_."

Joffrey jumps away from her and Sansa breathes out in relief. The sound causes Professor Mormont to look at Sansa and she flushes under the scrutiny.

"Professor!" Joffrey smiles as his hand now snakes its way around her waist.

"You know better than this, Sansa," the professor says to her, ignoring Joffrey entirely.

"We do," Joffrey continues to speak on her behalf. "And we're very sorry. Aren't we, love?"

Sansa looks to Joffrey and knows this is her chance. This is her way out of this hell he's forced her into but the way his eyes narrow brings forth a memory of his mother. They have the same eyes – ruthless, cold and spiteful. If she were to tell Professor Mormont right now what's been going on, it would be her word against his. A Stark against a Baratheon – or a Lannister legacy. And Sansa is not stupid. She knows how pureblood societies work in this world. Her family would be ostracised. Joffrey's mother would make sure of it.

"Yes, of course," Sansa smiles warmly. "I'm very sorry, professor."

Professor Mormont nods but there is doubt in his eyes and she feels relief and trepidation at this. She knows the Mormonts have always been close to the Starks but she prays he never brings this up with her parents. She doesn't think she can lie to them. She doesn't know if she's strong enough for that.

"Perhaps you two should hurry along back to your dorms. It is getting late," he says.

"Yes, professor." Sansa tries to move but Joffrey's arm tightens around her and when he leads her away with a charming wave goodbye to Professor Mormont, she is forced to follow until they're out of earshot."You can let go now."

"Why would I do that?" Joffrey laughs. "Remember, you're _mine_."

Sansa rips his arm from her waist and steps away. "I'm not! I never was!"

"Sansa, Sansa, Sansa." He shakes his head with disappointment. "You shouldn't resist me. I own you."

"We're over, Joffrey," she spits back, running more on adrenaline and frustration than bravery or confidence in her words. "You don't get to control me anymore! You don't get to touch me or threaten me or… You don't get any part of me!"

"You spiteful little bitch," Joffrey sneers and he raises his hand, only instead of it coming crashing down on her, he's being thrown back into the wall.

Jon walks forward, his wand still raised and his eyes darker than she has ever seen them. "You don't touch her," he growls, voice low but no less threatening. "You don't look at her. You don't even breathe the air she's in. Do you understand me, Baratheon?"

Sansa notices Ygritte now who is standing there with narrowed eyes and there is a fire in them too that confuses her.

"Who are you to threaten me?" Joffrey pushes himself up to his feet. "You're just a Snow. The son of a whore. A bastard without a–" But he is being thrown back again into the wall.

"Don't…" Her voice shakes. "Don't talk about Lyanna Snow like that!" Sansa doesn't realise she's screaming and has now attracted a gaggle of students but she can't stop. "So help me, Joffrey, I'll kill you myself!"

"Sansa," Jon murmurs to her, his hands clasping over her own. He lowers her wand and pulls her to him. "Sansa, come here. Let me get you out of here." She doesn't protest when he leads her away. She doesn't notice when he looks over her head to mouth an apology to Ygritte. And she doesn't notice when he leads her not to the Ravenclaw Tower but to an empty classroom up on the fourth floor.

"I… I thought you might want some privacy," Jon says. "The common room will probably be busy tonight but… I can take you back if you want."

Sansa doesn't say anything for a long time. She just stares at her hands as they shake uncontrollably. She has never hit anyone before – physically or with magic. Sansa hardly even remembers doing it. All she remembers is the anger – and, _oh god,_ the grief.

"I'm sorry," Sansa murmurs.

"What? Sansa, there's nothing to apologise for. You didn't do anything wrong." Jon is now in front of her, stilling her hands with his. "Will you please look at me?"

She complies and has the overwhelming urge to touch her hand to his cheek but she instead focuses on the warmth of him so close by. He smells of sweat and grass and it almost makes her smile how vastly different it is to Joffrey's stench of cologne.

"What he said about your mum," Sansa begins and she inhales deeply to quell the tears that are threatening to come forth. "I'm so sorry, Jon. You shouldn't have had to hear that and you wouldn't if I hadn't…"

"I can handle myself," Jon says kindly. "But you have to know I don't blame you. For any of it. In fact," and now he's smiling. It's a rare sight for the solemn boy she has come to know but she likes it. She likes it a lot. "I have to thank _you_ for defending my honour. And my mother's honour."

Sansa blushes and she shakes her head at his praise. "I didn't even know what I was doing. I just knew I couldn't let him say that about her. Lyanna – your mum was a great woman."

Something dark flashes across his features and his hands suddenly fall away from hers as he steps back. "She wasn't perfect, Sansa."

"Jon?" she questions but he has his back to her now and she feels stupid and foolish and she wishes she can take back whatever it was that had upset him. "I'm sorry. I…"

"Stop apologising," Jon says as he turns back to face her. His grey eyes are so sincere and so pleading her breath catches in her throat. "At least to me. I don't care if you are wrong. I don't care if you just slapped me for no apparent reason. I don't want you to ever have to apologise to me."

She shakes her head and steps closer to him. "That's stupid. If I do something wrong then I should apologise."

"No," Jon is smiling again. "You're Sansa Stark. You're a lady. A princess. A duchess in a French court. And I, Jon Snow, am your lowly knight."

Sansa laughs. "Jon, we were kids. That doesn't count."

"It does to me," he says as he bends a knee and takes her hand in his. "Lady Sansa," he looks up at her and then places a soft kiss to her knuckles. "I am forever in your service." She giggles and tugs gently on his hand so he stands up. When his eyes catch hers again, she thinks she can see flecks of lilac in the greys but it's probably the dim lighting in the room that has her seeing things. Jon holds her gaze however and inhales deeply. "I hate to see you doubt yourself like this. Please promise me?"

She exhales slowly and holds onto him tightly. "If you promise to talk to me when you need to." He looks confused and Sansa sighs. "I'm not stupid, Jon. We may not be as close as we once were but… I can tell something is bothering you."

Jon nods with a small smile. "Okay, I promise."

"Then I promise too."

It feels absurd to her that only minutes ago she felt as if her whole world was locked inside Joffrey's hands. Now she thinks she might just survive this after all.

The next morning Sansa is immediately accosted. The rumours have spread like wildfire throughout the castle. They are more distorted with every person it passes through and by the time it reaches Sansa, she is asked by Bran if she really tried to _crucio_ Joffrey for cheating on her last year. Her heart constricts tightly in her chest to think that there are people out there who thinks she is this petty; it terrifies her even more to think that there are girls out there who know nothing of Joffrey's cruelty, who are likely to fall prey to his pretty words and wealthy name.

"I'm sorry," Bran says next. "I shouldn't have even asked. Of course you wouldn't do that."

"No," Sansa nods. "But I did throw him into a wall." She allows a small smirk to pull at her lips but it only grows when Bran gasps. "What? Do you not think your sister is capable of that?"

"Aye, my sister _Arya_ but not you," Bran is shaking his head but there's a smile there. "What happened?"

They're sitting in the common room on Saturday afternoon in front of the fireplace. Sansa tucks her legs to her chest and wraps her arms around herself. She doesn't explain to Bran what happened before or why she hates Joffrey as much as she does but Bran is a perceptive boy and he probably has his suspicions.

"Joffrey insulted… He was saying very mean things about Jon's mum," Sansa says, choosing her words carefully.

Bran's brows furrow together. "What did he say?" Sansa shakes her head, not willing to repeat the words. "Sansa, what did he say?"

"Don't concern yourself with what he says, Bran. Joffrey is inconsequential."

"Then why would he say mean things about Aunt Lyanna?" Bran asks. She finds it bizarre her younger siblings all call Jon's mum their aunt but then she supposes they all grew up with Lyanna always there. Sansa and Robb are the only ones to remember Lyanna as the strange woman who came to take Jon away from them.

"It doesn't matter. Please leave it alone… and _never_ mention it to Jon," Sansa tells him sternly. "Promise me you won't bring it up with him?" Bran nods demurely. "Good."

Jeyne files through the entrance to the common room with a peculiar expression on her face. When she spots Sansa and Bran, she makes a quick beeline over to the two of them. "Uh, Sans? There's some girl outside asking to see you."

"Who?" she asks warily. No one asks to see her except her family and Jeyne already knows all of them.

"I don't know. I think she's a seventh year," Jeyne shrugs, which makes Sansa sigh. It is likely some poor lass who thinks talking to Sansa might give her some inside scoop on Robb – or worse, Joffrey.

She stands up and makes her way to the entrance. Standing just beyond is a tall figure with hair as red as hers. Sansa knows who it is immediately. "Ygritte?"

The other girl whirls around but she doesn't offer a smile in greeting. She merely gestures with her head for Sansa to follow. She doesn't know what compels her but she does.

They walk down the stairs from the Ravenclaw Tower and head past several classrooms before Ygritte is positive they are all alone.

"Jon doesn't know I'm here," Ygritte says first. "And my wish is that he never knows."

"I don't understand," Sansa starts to say but she cuts her off swiftly.

"I have been around boys like Joffrey all my life," Ygritte says evenly. "I have seen the destruction they cause if left to do as they please. Now let me be clear, Sansa. I am not doing this out of the bottom of my heart but I care about Jon and he cares about you and he's going to do something he'll regret just to protect you."

Sansa frowns. "If you're here to tell me to just stand up for myself, Ygritte, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

The other girl rolls her eyes. "No, that's not it. I'm offering you help. I can teach you how to defend yourself."

"Do you think it is that simple? I am one of the top students in my year. I know every defensive spell in the book by heart. If it was that simple, I would have rid myself of him a long time ago." Her frown deepens to a scowl, and she does not like the way Ygritte is looking at her – as if she is some stupid, silly girl for getting caught up in Joffrey's web like this.

"A wand can be disarmed," Ygritte pushes on. "Feeling strong in your own skin? That's something he can't take away from you."

"Why are you helping me?" Sansa is still not convinced she believes in Ygritte's sincerity.

"I already told you."

"And I know that's not all. Why?" Sansa asks again.

Ygritte sighs and pushes back her hair from her face. "Because… Because I wish someone was there to teach my mum before it got out of control. Do you understand now?"

Sansa is dumbstruck by her honesty and she nods without saying another word. She wants to comfort the other girl but she knows better than to reach out to her. Ygritte isn't the type to accept comfort so easily. In a way, her bluntness and callous ways reminds her of Arya, and so Sansa does what she would do with her little sister. She lets her walk away, knowing that a confession such as that doesn't need a reply, only an acknowledgement. Sympathy is the last thing Ygritte would want.

And she sees now why Jon likes her so much. She's strong just like him.

She's everything Sansa is not.

* * *

 **A/N:** Let me know what you guys think! Love to hear from you all 3 Thank you for reading!


	4. Dragonblood

The owls are becoming more frequent. He knows he won't be able to hide the growing number of letters forever but he is thankful at least that Robb is too busy to notice anything amiss. He is less lucky with Sam, who is more adept at reading Jon and who asks him without uttering a word, but Jon isn't ready to talk to anyone about this. He isn't ready to read the letters.

He throws himself into quidditch, pushing his teammates till they're all too sore to do any more. He knows they think him mad but Jon doesn't care. He's not just pushing them to win the Quidditch Cup anymore. He doesn't even think he cares about winning. He just needs Joffrey to lose.

The thought of the Slytherin has his blood boiling underneath his skin. It's a feeling foreign to Jon. He has always prided himself in being a fairly level-headed boy, a stark contrast to Robb, who is all reckless impulse, driven by emotion more than reason. But Robb had the luxury of growing up with a loving family whose reputation allowed him certain liberties. Jon's upbringing was less as kind. His only source of comfort came in the close relationship he had with the Starks, but after that, Jon has always been on his own.

Even more so now after his mum's passing.

Jon rubs at his eyes. The cold shrill of autumn has now fully taken hold of Hogwarts. Red and gold leaves cover the grounds as trees bear their skeleton for all the world to see. It is a time of change; of shedding what is dead to the upcoming winter. He loved his mum, loved what she tried to do for him and loved her for understanding his need for the Starks in his life, but her death is wrought with questions Jon doesn't think he wants answered.

"I thought I'd find you here," Sam's voice reaches him and Jon turns to see his friend. "Why are you sulking?"

"I'm not sulking," Jon says but the expression on Sam's face has him rephrasing his words. "I am not sulking _that_ much. I just needed some time to myself."

Sam nods and pauses in his steps. "Should I leave?"

"No, Sam," Jon offers his friend a small smile. "I wouldn't mind the company."

The Ravenclaw comes to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Jon and for a few seconds, the two friends stare out onto the grounds in silence, both leaning on the railing of the bridge. It's easy to lose oneself to the serenity of the castle at this time of hour. The bridge is far enough removed from the commotion below that barely a voice could be heard above the whistling winds. It's why Jon likes it here so much.

"Do you miss her?" Sam says after a while.

Jon nods. "Every day."

"She was a great woman," Sam offers and Jon is immediately reminded of Sansa and he feels a hollow ache he can't adequately explain away.

"She had her faults, Sam," Jon replies, just as he did that day. "Let's not delude ourselves just because she's gone now."

Sam sighs. "She loved you. I think that makes her a great woman. It's more than others get."

Jon glances at his friend and in the sombre expression he sees the timid eleven-year-old who cowered as members of his own house teased him relentlessly. Apparently being a Tarly meant something to a lot of people and the fact that Sam didn't live up to those expectations had turned him into the butt of many jokes. For all he hated the years his mum had forced him to move around the world, Jon was at least glad he had grown up primarily out of the circle of pureblood society. From what he's seen, he hates it.

"You have your mother's love," Jon reminds him. "And your sister's."

"Yes," he chuckles. "And you have the Starks."

Jon chuckles too in spite of his sullen mood. He may not have the blood of the pack but he knows he's as much a part of it as a true Stark. "Aye, that I do."

Another silence descends upon the two friends before Sam turns his body fully towards Jon to speak. "Sansa asked for you."

This surprises Jon and he arches a brow in question.

"She didn't say what it was about but you should probably go find her later," Sam suggests to which he nods quietly, wondering what exactly it is Sansa wants. His thoughts turn dark when he starts to conjure up images of Sansa cornered alone and afraid by that blonde-haired cunt. If not for his need to graduate Hogwarts with a good, clean record, he would gladly curl his hands around Joffrey Baratheon's neck and watch as his last glimmer of life fades away from those sadistic eyes.

"You went from sulking to murderous," Sam says in alarm. "Jon?"

"It's nothing."

Although news had quickly spread since that Friday over Jon and Sansa's altercation with Joffrey, no one knew who started what and her secret still remains hidden. Jon has no desire to break her trust now – he had even gone so far as to swear Ygritte from ever speaking of what she saw. It had caused an argument or two between them but ultimately she promised.

A distant hoot pulls Jon from his revelry and the two friends look up at the exact time a tawny brown old comes flapping towards them. It doesn't slow as it swoops into the bridge, dropping a letter into Jon's hand, before flying back to where it had come from.

"How many is that now?" Sam questions with incredulity. "You _have_ to open one."

"Why? Why should I listen to anything the man says?" He crumples the letter in his hand and drops it onto the ground. He starts to walk away but even without having to glance back, he knows Sam has creased out the letter and is following diligently behind.

"Because you'll regret it if you don't," Sam says as he catches up to Jon.

" _Regret_?" Jon spits out vehemently. "Where was his regret the past seventeen years, Sam? Or is he only doing this now to clear his conscience because my mother is dead?"

"Maybe," Sam rubs at the nape of his neck. "Maybe he is. But you deserve to at least know. Find some peace of mind at last."

 _Peace of mind_ – that is a laughable notion. Jon doesn't think he's had peace of mind since her passing nearly six months ago now. And before that? He's not even sure what that was, but Jon stills and he exhales heavily. "You're asking a lot of me."

"I'm asking because I know you," Sam replies but there's a triumphant smile on his face as he hands over the letter. Jon takes it, avoiding the knowing eyes of his friend, and rips open the envelope.

He pulls the letter out slowly and braces himself for what he's about to read.

"Dear Jon," he says. "There is a lifetime of wrongs I have committed that I know you will never forgive me for and I do not expect you to. I understand this letter is seventeen years too late and I can list excuses for you in every shade and colour for my absence from your life and your mother's life, but it would not do us any good to begin this with lies. I left because I was selfish. And I stayed away because I was scared." Jon hisses through his teeth but now he has started reading, he can't stop. "But I truly want to make amends. I have followed your career at Hogwarts, Jon. You are an impressive young man and I only wish to make your acquaintance. I don't expect anything more than that. Please consider it. With regards, R. Targaryen."

"Bloody hell," Sam whispers. "You didn't – when you told me you knew who your father was, you never told me it was… _Bloody hell._ "

"It doesn't matter who he is," Jon groans. "He'll never be my father. No matter what he says. I have no father."

"Jon -"

"Drop it, Sam."

He doesn't wait for another response. He turns from the spot and begins to walk back towards the castle. As he does, he reaches for his wand from the inside pocket of his robes and whispers an incantation that quickly lights the letter on fire.

Rhaegar Targaryen can go sod himself for all Jon cares.

By the time Halloween approaches, Jon was receiving at least a dozen letters a week – all of which he burns as soon as he sees them. He no longer cares if people know or if Robb continuously hounds him down about the letters or if Arya punches him in the shoulder for keeping secrets from her; he just does not have the energy to think about what writing back to Rhaegar means. Jon thinks if he sees the man in the flesh he might hex him repeatedly for all the hurt he's caused Jon's mum.

When a letter arrives for him _during_ Charms class, Jon is fuming. He asks to be excused immediately, citing headaches and anything he can say to leave the curious eyes of his friends and girlfriend behind. When Professor Manderly finally lets him go, he races out of there as fast as he can manage. Frankly, he's tired of the questions, and god, he's even more tired of fighting with Ygritte about it. He tries to remember she is only asking because she cares but it's hard to constantly argue with someone who should know him well enough to leave him alone. His secrets are his and when he's ready he'll talk.

Jon doesn't head for the Hospital Wing as he says he will. He walks straight out of the castle doors, down past the courtyard and Hagrid's Hut, until he is standing in the shadowed walls of the Forbidden Forest. The name deters some of the younger students but most know that as long as you don't venture too far into the forest, you won't come to much harm – not that his own safety is even on his mind at the moment. Jon just needs a place to clear his head, to feel as if he's somewhere else, somewhere far from the stony castle walls.

The ground is damp underneath his feet from this morning's shower and the mud squishes as he paces. Sunlight is blocked by the thick canopy of trees above Jon and it leaves him in a muted grey world that already feels and smells so vastly different from Hogwarts. Everything in here feels so alive in spite of winter's foreboding.

Jon stands the for some time unaware of whether it is minutes or hours that pass him by. It's hard to find any distinction in the height of the sun in the sky. Inside the forest, everything looks the same but he can tell he's been there for some while by the numbness in his fingers and the biting cold around his nose and cheeks.

Jon leans his back against a tree, tilting his head upwards and closing his eyes. He tries to remember his mother's face – the grey eyes and curly dark hair that he has so clearly inherited. He wonders then if there is even anything of his father in him at all. He hopes not. He doesn't think he can stand to have even a single trait of Rhaegar Targaryen, whether physical or otherwise, but he wonders all the same. For anyone who looked at Lyanna and Jon together, the resemblance was uncanny and no one could deny them mother and son but to speak with them even for an hour and one might start to speculate whether Jon is Lyanna's son at all. While she is so vibrant, so full of life, Jon is her opposite. He knows the others describe him as solemn and grumpy but he prefers to think of himself as quiet. Unlike his mother, Jon never impulsively did anything. He always needed to think everything through several times over before acting – at least he tried. Sometimes there was a part of him so dark and primal that surged forward when the people he cared about were threatened. Jon doesn't know where it comes from or how even to control it but it's like having a dormant dragon slumbering inside him till someone is dumb enough to provoke it.

"Jon!"

His eyes snap open and at first he thinks someone's found him, ready to interrogate him once more about the letters, but then they fall on her red hair, her clear blue eyes and the rosy pink tinge of her cheeks. "Sansa, what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same."

"Needed some peace and quiet," Jon answers truthfully.

She nods with understanding. "Same." She raises her left hand and shows him the book she's holding. "I've been coming here to read. I like the quiet and… it kind of reminds me of home."

"I know what you mean," Jon says. "It's the cold, isn't it?"

When Sansa laughs, he can't help but smile with her. She shakes her head, stepping towards him. "It must be annoying."

"What must be?"

"The constant questions. People wondering if you're okay all the time," Sansa says. "People always wanting to know about things they don't need to know about."

Jon realises then that she is the only person in his life not to badger him with questions. She is the _only one_ to have kept her distance and allowed him the space he so desperately craves. He is also shameful to realise he has allowed that space to grow because he's been too self-involved to know it was there in the first place.

"Would you hate me then if I asked you how you're doing?" Jon pushes himself from the tree to close the distance between them. She laughs again and shakes her head. "How are you, Sansa?"

"Better," she answers. "How are you? I think it's only fair."

"Aye, you're right," Jon says and then shrugs his answer. "Frustrated? Perhaps irritable is a better word."

"I've been there," she says with a wry smile before pulling a blanket from her bag. She walks over to the tree he was just leaning against and shakes it out by its trunk. "So that's why we should skip dinner, skip the circus of people in there and stay here a little while longer."

"Aren't you cold?" Jon asks.

Sansa snorts in a rather unladylike way but Jon likes it. For a girl so possessed by her manners, he finds it disarmingly cute when she does something she wouldn't ever do in front of anyone else. "Never… But just in case, this blanket is charmed to warm us."

"What about food?"

"I have a thermos of hot chocolate and some lemon cakes."

This makes him laugh and it's the first real laugh he's had since the letters first started to arrive and it surprises him how something so simple as amusement over Sansa's predictability could pull that from him when nothing else has.

"What? Do you not like lemon cakes?" Sansa asks as she folds herself on the blanket.

"I love them," Jon answers and takes his seat beside her. "Though I don't believe anyone could love them quite like you do. You know your mum had baked me a lemon cake for my third birthday and you stuck your grubby little paws into it before I could even blow out the candles."

"No!" Sansa gasps with her hands to her mouth. "I didn't really, did I?"

"You did," Jon laughs and nudges her with his foot. "My birthday unknowingly created a monster."

"Jon," Sansa swats at him. "I am not that bad."

"I don't know. I think you might be."

She's rolling her eyes now at him and takes the container of lemon cakes and places it far from his reach. "Fine then you get none for mocking me."

"I am not above stealing your lemon cakes from you," Jon warns with a mischievous smile.

"You wouldn't dare, Jon Snow," Sansa is saying as she starts to back away from him, reaching for the container to hold it tightly into her side.

"I'm a quidditch captain and didn't you say we were all barbarians?" Jon inches closer towards her. "Maybe you aren't too far off."

" _Jon…_ "

He cuts her off by lunging forward for the container. Sansa shrieks with surprise as she tries to roll away from him but Jon is blessed with years of training his reflexes so he's able to easily pin her down with both his hands on her wrists. He laughs as she tries to wriggle free.

"You are a horrible boy," Sansa breathes out but she's smiling so he knows he hasn't gone too far.

"A growing boy," Jon counters as he lets go of one wrist to lean down on his elbow. He's then pulling her other wrist forward so he can take the container from her hand, but he's thrown off-balance when Sansa suddenly shoves him on his back, her legs straddling him and the container held high above his head.

"Never underestimate a Stark," Sansa smirks. She opens the container and breaks off a piece of lemon cake to plop into her mouth. "Mhmm… Delicious."

"Okay, okay, I can admit defeat when I've been –" His words die on his lips as he watches her cardigan fall from her shoulder to reveal a yellowing bruise. "That… _that_ son of a bitch!"

"Jon?" Sansa's eyes are wide but she follows his gaze to her shoulder and she's scrambling away from him, pulling the cardigan back up. "No, Jon, it's not…"

But he's already on his feet.

This time he doesn't think he'd be able to stop once he has the cowardly prick in his grasps. He doesn't think he even cares if he's expelled for it. All Jon cares about is ridding the world of Joffrey's evil and protecting Sansa from anyone who would ever dare to lay a finger on her.

"I'll kill him, Sansa," Jon says. "And then he'll never touch you again."

He starts to walk towards the castle but before he can move even two steps, Sansa is in front of him with her hands on his chest, pushing him back.

"Jon, please."

"Why are you protecting him!" Jon shouts in anger but he instantly softens when he sees her face. The plait she had her hair in falls now in loose tendrils with a dead leaf stuck at the top and those blue eyes are so pleading, so warm he feels remorse at having shouted at her at all. His rage isn't directed at her and he tries his hardest to understand the girl before him – this sweet, kind, intelligent girl – but he can't. "Sansa, you don't have to be scared of him. I can protect you."

"No one can protect me," Sansa says resolutely. "And I don't need your protection."

"I can… if you let me," Jon takes her hand in his. " _Please_ let me."

She pulls away with a heavy sigh. "No, Jon. This isn't your fight. This is mine and… and the bruise isn't from Joffrey."

"Then who is it –"

"It's from Ygritte."

" _What_? No… I don't… I don't understand," Jon stammers out, his mind foggy with this admission from her.

"She's teaching me how to defend myself," Sansa tells him. "She made me promise not to tell you of it but she's helping me. And... I feel for the first time like I can actually stand up to him. _Without_ you. Or Robb. Or anyone else to fight my battles for me."

For a second, he doesn't know how to respond or why her not needing him fills him with such anguish, but after the silence starts to make her fidget nervously, Jon pushes the cardigan from her shoulder. The bruise is mostly yellow with some purple discolouration but at least it means it's in its final stages of healing. He gently runs his thumb across her bare skin, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Sansa. "Is it sore?" he asks as his eyes flicker up to hers. She shakes her head. "I hate to see you like this."

Sansa's hand comes up to grip his. "I'm fine, I promise I can handle this."

"God, she really doesn't hold back, does she?"

"No," Sansa laughs and the sound is what he needs to let go of the tension in his shoulders. He drops his hand from hers and offers her a half-smile. "But I can see why you like her so much."

"What do you mean?"

"She's amazing," Sansa says. "So strong and capable, like she has no fear in the world. I can only wish to be more like her by the end of this."

"Aye, sometimes I think there is nothing Ygritte can't do," Jon says but then he's taking her hands in his again, forcing her to really look at him. "But you are strong in a way she isn't, Sansa. You're so _loving_ and you're so perceptive to other people's emotions in a way that most people aren't. I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You're amazing too."

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you enjoyed that! Let me know what you think! Thank you anyways though for reading! 3


	5. Revelations

**Sansa:**

Her heart beats rapidly like thunder against her chest and she squares her shoulder in anticipation. She knows something is coming but she doesn't know what. When the fist finally flies at her, Sansa remembers to sidestep just in time.

"Good," Ygritte smiles and Sansa returns it. "I'm glad I don't have to give you another bruise so soon after the last."

Sansa glances down at the purple and green shape on her upper shoulder and laughs. "Me too. I was starting to think you enjoyed it."

Ygritte smirks but doesn't respond. She turns away from Sansa to retrieve a towel off the back of a chair. They held their lessons in one of the abandoned classrooms, pushing all of the tables and chairs back against the wall to serve their purpose. Two and a half weeks and no one is the wiser – though Jon now knows but he is the only one. He does have a peculiar habit of learning all of her secrets without trying. Sansa wonders why it's always him to notice things others don't. They haven't been close since she was six and him seven.

"I could teach you more, you know?" Ygritte says not for the first time as she turns back to face her. "How to really hurt someone."

It's the same old argument since they first started these lessons and Sansa has the same answer she always does. "I don't want to hurt anyone. That's not why I'm doing this."

"I know, I _know_ ," Ygritte rolls her eyes. "But no one would think less of you if you did hurt him."

"I just want to be able to take care of myself," Sansa asserts. "I don't want him to ever…"

Ygritte's mocking eyes immediately soften. "I understand."

It is a bizarre situation to be having this kind of honest conversation with Jon's girlfriend when not even her siblings know the extent of Joffrey's torture. She doesn't even speak so candidly to Jon about it but with Ygritte, there's an ease that she thinks come from not really knowing the other girl. Outside of this room, they are strangers and Sansa likes it that way.

Sansa pulls on her navy jumper with the bronze trimming before casting a glance over at Ygritte. "Are you going to see Jon now?"

"Yeah," Ygritte says, shrugging into her own crimson coloured jumper. "I haven't seen him in awhile. He's been a bloody miserable sod the past few weeks."

"He has," Sansa nods. She tries not to blush when she thinks of how she saw him only last night. It makes no sense to her why it would give her so much pleasure to know he has been so miserable with everyone else but not with her. It shouldn't.

"Anyway, good job today, Sansa," Ygritte says, standing in front of her. She pats her on the non-bruised shoulder. "In two weeks, you've come a long way."

"Thanks," Sansa replies and this time she does blush. "You're a great teacher."

Ygritte snorts at this. "So I've been told." And without another word, she exits the classroom and leaves Sansa standing there alone in the middle of the room.

Once the desks and chairs are placed back where they belong, Sansa exits as well. She follows the familiar corridors till she reaches the moving staircases. It is a quiet evening in the castle and she feels more relaxed than she has in a long time. Sansa is still learning to defend herself and she is far from adept at it but even the act of learning has done wonders for her confidence to roam the castle on her own – although she knows it is partially due to Joffrey being too busy to bother with her. Slytherin's first game is coming up and all eyes are on their newest captain. Sansa hopes he crashes and burns – or if that is too much to ask, she at least hopes a bludger knocks him off of his broom.

When Sansa reaches the Ravenclaw Tower, she half-expects Jeyne to be waiting for her just by the entrance but she instead finds the common room nearly empty save for one lone figure. Sansa catches his eye and a red flush spreads from his neck up to the tips of his ears, which is altogether an endearing sight.

"Hi," Sansa smiles at the older boy.

"Oh, Sansa!" Sam scrambles to his feet. "I… was… I was waiting for you."

This intrigues her as outside from the occasional dinners she joins her siblings for at the Gryffindor table, she hardly ever speaks to Sam. "Yes?" she urges him to continue.

"Right," Sam chuckles nervously and she is even more endeared to the boy. It becomes all the more bewildering to Sansa how he is one of Jon's most trusted friends – and how Sam has endured Robb and Theon for as long as he has. It is certainly the oddest group of friends. "Robb… He asked me to find you but you weren't here so I waited. But he says it's urgent."

Sansa frowns now. "Everything to Robb is urgent, Sam, but," she sighs and offers another smile., "take me to my brother if you must."

Sam nods and quickly leads her out of the Ravenclaw common room. It is not quite a companionable silence between the two as Sam keeps fidgeting and glancing back at her as if she would run away at any moment's notice. Feeling a little fed up, Sansa decides to break the silence. "Don't take this the wrong way, Sam, but why do you hang out with my brother?"

Sansa nearly walks straight into him as he suddenly stops walking to turn around and look at her. He chuckles for a moment. "I ask that question every day," Sam says honestly. "But the other way around."

"Oh no," Sansa shakes her head. "You're far too good for the likes of him. And Theon. _Definitely_ Theon. Even Jon is too sullen for you."

Sam chuckles again. "They're not that bad." But when Sansa rolls her eyes, he sighs. "It's… a long story."

"I'm in no hurry to see my brother," Sansa assures him.

"I guess it began in first year," Sam says slowly, his eyes carefully watching hers. "As you know, I'm a Tarly and because of my father's reputation, everyone expected me to be… just like him. Only I'm not. It was easy to avoid the scrutiny when Father rarely takes me to the pureblood functions but at Hogwarts, it was harder to ignore."

Sansa nods in understanding. She is lucky to be apart of a pureblood legacy that has always prided themselves on family above all else. Even when they did on occasion attend those pureblood functions, Eddard and Catelyn Stark had always made sure their children knew that being apart of this society isn't all there is to life – and perhaps it is also the location of the Starks' manor that also secludes them mostly from this society. It is a blessing now to have grown up in this environment but she hadn't always enjoyed it. Once upon a time, Sansa had longed and prayed to marry into a renowned family – to move to London and leave the dreary north behind.

"Children weren't kind," Sam says simply, not willing to divulge any more to her and Sansa doesn't push him on it. "I think it was a month into Hogwarts when Jon saw." He paused and smiled ruefully, looking above Sansa's head as if he was reliving the moment. "You know what he's like. He immediately comes to defend me but it was four against one. Needless to say, Jon looked _awful_ by the end of it."

"What?" Sansa gasps. "I never… Why didn't I ever know of this?"

"You weren't even in Hogwarts at the time, Sansa," Sam says with a soft chuckle. "And Jon never told your parents or his mum."

"What happened next?" Sansa is gripped now by this story, urging Sam to carry on.

"They left and a professor found Jon and me after," he continues. "Neither of us said anything. I'm thankful every day for that. It would have made living with them even worse."

"I'm sorry, Sam," Sansa says quietly as she places a hand on his forearm. "You shouldn't have had to… No one deserves to be bullied."

"It's okay," Sam smiles. "I met Robb and Theon because of it. They showed up a couple hours after Jon was brought to the Hospital Wing. He told them what happened and Robb swore to take them out. A bit aggressive for me but it's hard to stop your brother once he sets his mind to something."

Sansa laughs. "Especially if you have Robb and Jon together."

"Exactly," Sam says. "And Theon too." When Sansa makes a face, he laughs and shakes his head. "Theon's not a bad guy. A bit rough around the edges, I admit."

"Try completely perverse," Sansa adds.

Sam sighs now and she feels she's suddenly said something wrong. "His father isn't the most understanding man around, you know? And being sorted into his father's house placed a lot of pressure on him. I think that's why he hangs out with us instead of the Slytherins. It's his way of rebelling."

"I don't understand," Sansa admits.

"Your family is still considered high enough in society that his father can't disapprove of his company but your family's influence is in the north and Mr. Greyjoy wants alliances in London. Theon sought out Robb deliberately to take control of who he's friends with," Sam explains.

"So he's using my brother?"

"No!" Sam quickly waves his hand. "Maybe at first but… but the friendship is real."

This is all news to Sansa and she tries to take it all in. There appears to be so much that she doesn't know. She admits she has never liked Theon. The way he looks at her is enough to make her think unkind thoughts towards the other boy but Theon is also lewd and crass with his words and she has always thought him a bad influence on Robb. Now, she doesn't know what to make of him.

"Please don't tell him I told you all this," Sam pleads. "He told us when he was drunk and I don't think he wants anyone else to know."

"I won't tell anyone," Sansa reassures Sam. "I just… I guess I can see why you four are friends now. It confused me for years to see such different people all in one friendship group but… it makes sense now."

"In a weird way," Sam agrees with a laugh.

Eventually, they continue to walk in silence till they're out of the castle walls and down by the quidditch pitch. All of her siblings minus Arya are gathered by a tree; Theon and Jon are off to the side talking; and she is wondering what in the world she's just walked into.

When Robb sees her, he jumps up and pulls her into a swift hug. " _Finally_ ," he says. "Did you two stop by the kitchens or something? What took you so long?"

Sansa ignores his question and arches a brow. "What are you doing? And why are they up? _Robb_ , you're Head Boy. It's past curfew."

"Sansa, they're fine," Robb rolls his eyes. "And besides this is an emergency."

"I really doubt that," Sansa sighs. She looks past Robb and catches Jon's eye. She can feel her cheeks warm under his gaze and she tries not to think about why that is.

"Truly, sister," Robb says and pulls her forward towards where Bran and Rickon are standing.

Sansa wraps an arm around Rickon's shoulder. "Did Robb wake you for this?" He nods and Sansa turns to scowl at her older brother.

"Look, okay, this is important," Robb says and he gestures for the others to come closer. "I have it from very reliable sources that Arya is going on a _date_ tonight."

"You're spying on our little sister?" Sansa exclaims and hits Robb on his shoulder. "You know she'll kill you for this."

"Sansa, ow!" he grabs her hands and stills them. "I have to know who this guy is. If he's worthy of my baby sister then I'll leave them be."

"Were we all needed for this?" Jon asks with exasperation. "I have work to do."

"Absolutely," Robb says, looking at each one of them. "As family comes first, the Starks must all be present. As my friends, you all must help protect my sister if the guy turns out to be a prick."

Something occurs to Sansa then and she yanks her hands away from Robb's. "Did you do this when I was dating…"

"No and I wish we had!" Robb answers her unfinished question. "That's why I have to. I don't want a repeat of what happened to you."

Something awful curdles in the pit of her stomach and she starts to step away from her brother. Somehow in the years they have grown up together, teasing and laughing over the most senseless things, Sansa and Robb have become so disconnected he can't even understand how this could upset her so.

"Right," she says quietly. "Because I'm stupid enough to get caught up in Joffrey's lies, you have to be extra cautious… I get it. But…" Sansa takes a deep breath. "Arya isn't me. Leave her alone, Robb."

She leaves Robb with a withering look before she turns on her heels and walks away from them. She can feel her heart lodged in her throat and she wants to cry but she won't do it now where they can still see her.

Her pace quickens as soon as she's out of sight and then she's running for the castle, the only sound in the air is that of her feet hitting the damp grass. She knows he means well. She knows he's only trying to protect Arya. But somehow being used as a cautionary example by her own brother makes her feel… _small_. As if she is a lost cause and too far broken to be saved. Sansa had voiced similar sentiments to herself but to know her brother thinks them too breaks her heart.

Robb used to be her protector. He used to be the person she could turn to when she was upset or scared. How did he go from being the one to stay up with her for days on end after Jon moved out to simply being another boy who didn't know her?

Sansa realises abruptly that she knows when. The same time she started dating Joffrey; the same time she started letting that snake into her life and controlling and changing who she was to fit his purposes. She remembers now the arguments she would have with Robb about her relationship to Joffrey; how they would scream at each other over it; and how after awhile he just gave up.

Tears fall down her face as she knows with absolution that she did this. She let this happen. She let Joffrey take everything away from her – including her family.

 **Jon:**

Jon thinks Robb is an idiot. It's not a new revelation but it's one that has made him angry for the first time at his best friend. He pulls Robb to one side after telling Sam and Theon to get the boys back to their respective dormitories without getting caught out after curfew. He doesn't speak for a few minutes as he drags Robb far away from the quidditch pitch. He doesn't stop until he's at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Once there, Jon pushes Robb forward with a forceful shove.

"Jon," Robb says in a low voice that he recognises instantly to mean his friend is not pleased with him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What hell am _I_ doing?" Jon repeats with incredulity. "What are you doing, Robb? Saying that stuff to Sansa?"

Robb lets out a frustrated groan and rubs his face with his hands. "I don't know. I don't bloody know anymore with her. One minute she's laughing with us and the next she has that – that far away look and I can't reach her. Trust me, I've tried."

Jon knows what he has to do now. It'll kill him to do it because he knows it's only going to cause Sansa more pain and that is the last thing he would ever want to do to her but at the end of the day, he'd rather she be angry with him than push her own brother out. She needs Robb more than she could ever need Jon, and as deluded as it sounds, he's betraying her trust for her.

"Robb," Jon starts and braces himself for what's to come. "What I'm going to tell you is going to make you hate me and it's going to be difficult to hear but I just…" He inhales deeply, looking at his oldest friend, imploring him to understand. "I just need you to know I did it for her."

"You're making me nervous," Robb says. "Just say it."

"Towards the end of last year, I found…" Even reliving the memory is painful for Jon but he pushes on. "I found Joffrey on top of Sansa. He was hurting her and she wasn't… She was trying to push him off but he wouldn't let her. He was just laughing and… Anyway, I pulled him off her and I know I told you I beat him up for cheating on her but it didn't quite happen like that."

Robb pales and doesn't say anything for a long while but Jon can see his blue eyes begin to darken ever so slowly. When he finally does speak, his voice comes from a deep and guttural part of Robb that has Jon understanding why people sometimes called Robb 'the Young Wolf'.

"You saw my sister assaulted?" Robb asks and Jon nods. "You saw it and you never told me?" He nods again and suddenly Jon's knocked to the ground, his jaw aching from where Robb's fist has met it. "You bloody saw my sister being assaulted and you kept it from me! How could you think… How did you think that was a good idea? You're my best friend. My _brother_!"

"She asked me!" Jon spits out the blood welling in his mouth and pushes himself to a standing position. "I wanted to tell you but I couldn't betray Sansa's trust like that."

"But you could mine?" Robb thunders. "She's my sister, Jon! I deserved to know!"

"Aye but it wasn't my secret to tell," Jon tries to explain but Robb isn't hearing it. He's pacing back and forth, a glint in his eyes Jon knows so well as he suspects he had it in his the first time he saw Joffrey hurt her.

"I can't forgive you for this," Robb murmurs and looks up from his pacing.

"I don't expect you to," Jon replies truthfully. "But Sansa needs you now. That's all I ask. I know I don't have much grounds to ask anything of you but go to her before you do anything else. Please."

For a moment, Rob's eyes soften and he looks as if he's going to say something but then he thinks better of it. He shakes his head with a sigh before turning back to Hogwarts. Jon watches as his oldest friend walks away from him and he feels an aching in his chest that makes him want to run into the Forbidden Forest. It's a cowardly move but he doesn't know what to do. In one fell swoop, he has lost Robb and he knows by telling him, he has also lost Sansa.

A wolf howls somewhere in the forest and Jon is ever more tempted to run towards it but even if the Starks now turn against him, he can't just walk away when Joffrey is still around to torment Sansa when she's alone. She might hate him but Jon can still look out for her.

And he has Ygritte still. Soft, warm, beautiful Ygritte.

Jon didn't go to her that night. Instead he found himself wandering over to the kitchens for ice to place on his swelling jaw before falling asleep on the steel table because the thought of returning to the Gryffindor Tower to face Robb's wrath didn't sound appealing in the slightest. He doesn't see Ygritte the next day either as he instead went to sulk in the Forbidden Forest again in the hopes that he didn't have to run into any of the Starks. Jon knows very well he is being a coward but it is better if he stays away – at least that is what he is using to justify his actions. When Ygritte eventually finds him on Sunday, Jon is sitting alone in the Great Hall eating dinner early to avoid the rush of students and with it the faces he had spent so much of the weekend hiding from.

"Are you avoiding me?" she asks bluntly as she sits across from him.

"Not you," Jon answers, looking up from his plate.

"So who are you avoiding?" Ygritte asks.

"Robb. Sansa. The Starks."

For a moment, she doesn't respond and then she's sighing heavily, pulling her hair over one shoulder. "You told Robb, didn't you?" He nods and she sighs again. "You did the right thing."

"Did I?" Jon snorts. "Then why do I feel so awful?"

"Because you lied to Robb and you told Sansa's secret," Ygritte answers. This makes Jon grimace and his girlfriend pulls his hand into hers. "Jon, they'll be okay and they'll forgive you. You need to stop blaming yourself for it. You are not the bad guy in this story. Joffrey is."

Jon hisses at the mention of the blonde's name but he looks into Ygritte's eyes instead, offering her a half-smile for her kindness. He squeezes her hand. "I'm sorry if you thought I was avoiding you."

"You were a miserable boy when I met you and you still are," she says with a laugh. "I knew what I was getting myself into."

Jon makes to say something, to let her know that though he has been distant in the past month he still cares for her, when the Starks walk into the Great Hall. It's only Robb, Sansa and Arya but his heart jumps into his throat all the same. Robb is avoiding his eye and steers his sisters to the opposite side of the Gryffindor table. Arya says something with confusion evident in her grey eyes and Jon realises that they didn't tell her but instead of finding relief in that small bit of knowledge, the look Sansa sends him only seems to make everything so much worse. He wants to go to her – if just to let her know that no matter how much she hates him now, he will always be there for her, but he can't move. He can only stare into her blue eyes, noticing the way they storm like a winter's blizzard – beautiful but cold; captivating but dangerous – and it is Jon that eventually looks away.

"Let's get out of here," Jon says and stands up, hand reaching out for Ygritte.

"I haven't eaten!"

"I'll get you a feast from the kitchens." He takes her hand and pulls her up to her feet. Jon doesn't know what compels him to do it but he snakes one hand around her waist and brings his lips forcefully down onto hers, relishing in the sweet taste that he has missed so much in the past couple of days. "Besides, I have better ideas for what we can do to pass the time."

Ygritte rolls her eyes but she humours him as the two walk out of the Great Hall hand-in-hand, a pair of eyes staring at them as they do so.


End file.
